


the words we found among the pages

by kikuris



Category: Octopath Traveler, Project Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Cyrus-Centric, Family, Friendship, Gen, and i love them, they're all one big happy family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 13:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15268173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikuris/pseuds/kikuris
Summary: Despite his renowned ability, even Cyrus can stumble across hurdles he doesn't know how to tackle on his own, leaving him perpetually stuck at an impasse.Thankfully, he has seven other companions who - he would soon learn - are always ready to give him a helping hand when he needs it most.





	the words we found among the pages

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Octopath Traveler release day (at least in Japan)! I can't believe it's finally here and I'll be able to play it tomorrow~  
> This is just a small idea I've had for a while after playing the demo, so I decided to write something for it! Plus I love these eight characters so much, they make such a good team!
> 
> Also, since the game has not been released here yet, some characters may seem ooc as I'm basing them purely off their prologues and nothing else.   
> Once again, this fic hasn't been beta'd so I'm really sorry for any mistakes!
> 
> That being said, thank you for checking this fic out and I hope you enjoy reading!

In all his life, silence had never been so deafening. 

He dipped the tip of the quill in the ink again; the fifth time in under a minute, hoping that repeating the process would somehow stimulate his mind to work. 

Unfortunately, it was proving to be as ineffective as his previous methods. 

Although, in hindsight, maybe performing laps around the small area of his room wasn’t one of his best ideas - especially since the residents in the room below had fervently knocked on his door with a string of complaints as a result.

Cyrus frowned as he stared down at the blank parchment in front of him. Instinctively, his eyes flickered to the stack of tomes that lay abandoned on the floor beside him. The temptation to re-read the collection of books entered his mind; like a small whisper echoing at the back of his head. 

But when he remembered that those books had been the cause of the disarray inside of his head in the first place, that thought withered away as quickly as it had arrived.

He groaned, using his free hand to rub at his eyes. He just needed something, _anything_ , to happen that would result in words being written upon this damned piece of blank parchment.

A sharp knock at the door was not the answer he had been looking for.

His hand tightened around the bottom tresses of soft feather. “Miss Payne, if you are here to complain about the noise again, I can assure you that-“

The door creaked open, followed by a familiar voice chiming in; effectively cutting him off. “Cyrus? Is it okay if I come in?”

He felt his muscles forcibly relax for the first time in over an hour. He let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair for a moment to compose himself. He turned his head to face the newcomer, offering them a weak but warm smile. “Ophilia! Of course. Please come in.”

The girl gave back her own soft smile in response as she moved further into the room. “Still hard at work I see?” She inquired. He didn’t miss the slight sympathetic tone to her words.

Cyrus’ smile wavered. “Yes, well...writing this report is proving to be more of a challenge than I had previously thought.” 

Ophilia frowned. “How so?”

Cyrus turned in his chair slightly, motioning to the stack of books. “Unfortunately, each of these texts contain contradictory statements to each other.” He let go of the slightly ruffled quill to pick up the book at the top of the pile. “Making my research almost impossible to complete.” He held the book out to the girl, who carefully accepted it after setting down the cup she was holding. Cyrus peered at the cup curiously. “Tea, Ophilia?”

She looked up from the book. “Oh! Yes, it’s for you actually,” she answered, opening the book to its contents page. 

Cyrus’ brow furrowed. “For me?” 

Ophilia hummed in response without looking up from the book as she turned the page. “Mm-hm. I thought maybe it would help you relax a bit.” She lifted her gaze for a moment, smiling. “Alfyn even added some herbal tincture to it. He said it alleviates stress and helps you to focus.”

“Oh…” was the only sound Cyrus could make at that moment, a warm feeling of fondness washing over him and stealing away his voice temporarily. He caught Ophilia’s curious gaze and quickly cleared his throat, snapping back to reality. “Thank you, my dear, that was very kind of you.” He smiled, accepting the cup into his hands. “And pass along my thanks to Alfyn too.”

Ophilia positively beamed in response. “It was no problem at all,” she said, her attention completely diverted from the book. “You’ve been working so hard these past couple of days, it was the least we could do.”

Cyrus’ smile softened. “I appreciate it all the same.” He gently picked up the small cup, taking a sip. It was sweeter than what he was used to, but not unpleasant. “Pull over a chair, my dear.” Using his free hand, he motioned to the small dining arrangement in the corner of the room. “No need for you to stand.” 

Ophilia nodded and quickly complied, ensuring the chair didn’t drag along the floor.

They sat in silence for a few moments; Ophilia skimming through the content of the tome while Cyrus contented in the brief moment of reprise from his work. He couldn’t help but allow his eyes to flicker over to the blank parchment and the sheets of messy notes that lay next to it. 

A feeling of strong dismay quickly enveloped him, and the short moment of solace was shattered. He didn’t have time to dwell on it, as suddenly, Ophilia was speaking; her voice laced with curiosity. 

“You’re studying the city’s history?” 

Cyrus placed the cup back down on the table. “Indeed I am. I have made it my personal goal to deepen my knowledge on our world’s history so that I may share it with others.” Ophilia gave him a knowing smile as she closed the book. Cyrus returned the smile immediately. “Surprisingly, there weren’t many tomes about this city in the Royal Archives back in Atlasdam.”

Ophilia nodded along to his words, sitting the book back on the top of the pile. “I see, that must have been the reason why you checked out so many books from the library here, right?”

Cyrus grinned. “One of the reasons, yes. However, one can never acquire too much knowledge.”

Ophilia giggled. “Of course.” 

Cyrus’ smile quickly dimmed as he reached over to pick up the various pieces of paper strewn across the table. “However, making sense of the information within these books…” He shook his head. “Dare I say, I believe it to be out of my league.” He handed his scrawled notes over to the girl with a frown. “Everything I’ve hypothesised so far has been nothing short of a jumbled mess of theories and contradictions.”

She accepted the notes cautiously, her gaze turning sympathetic. “Cyrus…” Her voice was soft as she spoke. “Don’t think like that.”

Cyrus gave a wry chuckle. “My apologies, Ophilia. You should not have to wallow in my negativities alongside me.”

Almost instantly, Ophilia was shaking her head, a more urgent look appearing on her face. “No, no, I never meant to imply that!”

Cyrus flinched slightly at the outburst. It was rare for Ophilia to raise her voice like that.

She composed herself a moment later, and her features softened again. “What I mean is that I’m positive you’ll figure it all out eventually.” She reached with her free hand to rub his shoulder comfortingly. “It’s _you_ we’re talking about after all. If anyone can do this, it’s you Cyrus!”

‘Touched’ didn’t even begin to explain how he felt after hearing those words. He reached over, placing his hand over Ophilia’s as a way of expressing his overwhelming gratitude. “Thank you, Ophilia.” He smiled warmly. “I do have to admit, your optimism truly is infectious.” He removed his hand from the girl’s and leaned forward slightly to reclaim his notes.

He watched as her composure sagged in what he assumed to be relief; her smile growing brighter by the second. “I’ve been told it rivals that of Tressa’s,” she replied, brushing off her clothes as she stood. “Although, I don’t quite think I’ve reached that level of optimism yet.” She returned the chair to its original spot before collecting the empty cup from the table.

Cyrus shot her an amused smile, his head tilting slightly in consideration. “Hm, perhaps. But I wouldn’t say you’re that far off, my dear.”

Ophilia voiced her thanks before inclining her head to the cup. “More tea?”

“If it’s no trouble. That would be lovely.”

Ophilia simply nodded in reply before making her way towards the door. She placed a hand on the doorknob and made to exit, but not before turning to give Cyrus an encouraging smile.

The man turned back in his chair, looking down at the blank page in front of him with a feeling of newfound motivation.

After all, who was he to let a small hurdle like this stand in his way?

* * *

A couple hours and two cups of tea later, Cyrus had successfully written a substantial number of pages surrounding the cultural history of the city. Some areas of information had been difficult to decipher. Thankfully, Alfyn had offered to question those around town to obtain the more finite details, while Ophilia had remained in the room with Cyrus to help him sieve through the information within the tomes.

However, when it came to other aspects such as the political history, neither the tomes nor information from the citizens had been reliable. Vague answers had mixed with contradictory statements, leaving the trio utterly muddled and confused.

Eventually the hours had passed by and nightfall had quickly fallen upon them. Regretfully, they disbanded for the day after making only slight headway with their current dilemma. Alfyn and Ophilia had apologised profusely for not being more help, but Cyrus had waved them off, telling them they had done more than enough and he would try his best to repay them soon.

Of course, after dismissing them, Cyrus had immediately returned to his work. This report was his responsibility after all. Besides, he had worked into the night many times during his teaching position in Atlasdam. Pushing past his limits was something he was accustomed to.

His body hadn’t adjusted or taken too kindly to his late night studies however; even after all these years. As such, as he neared the end of his reread of the second tome, he could feel the fatigue starting to creep up on him. Not to mention, the pale moonlight and soft glow of the candlelight were hardly efficient for reading the faded text of the books.

Sighing, he bookmarked the page and closed the tome. He attempted to rub the bleariness from his eyes, but to no avail. Maybe it was time to retire for the night.

“Cyrus!”

Well, that had certainly woken him, and simultaneously thrown any opportunity of sleep out the window.

He barely had time to turn to welcome the newcomer before a weight crashed into the back of his chair, causing him to lurch forward slightly. A few books slid off the table and clattered to the floor at the shift.

“Whoops, sorry!” 

Cyrus shook his head. “It’s quite alright, Tressa,” he said, trying to keep the fatigue out of his voice as he leaned down to collect the fallen books.

Whether it worked or not, he didn’t know, seeing as Tressa had chosen not to comment on it.

“Anyways,” she continued, folding her arms on the back of the chair in order to lean forward. “You still hard at work?”

Cyrus raised a brow at that, moving to sit back up in his chair as he placed the books back on the table. Tressa wasn’t usually one to drop by while he was working. “Actually, I was just finishing up-”

“Perfect!” Tressa cheered, jumping excitedly behind him.

If Cyrus wasn’t confused before, he definitely was now. “I...I’m sorry?”

Tressa rolled her eyes, moving around the chair in order to hoist him up and onto his feet.

Not expecting the sudden movement, he stumbled slightly, barely avoiding stepping on the younger girl’s feet. “Tressa, would you care to explain what’s going on?”

The girl simply moved to blow out the candle on the table before sending him a wide grin. “We’re going for a nighttime stroll!” 

“We?” Cyrus echoed.

The merchant nodded. “Mm-hm! You, me, and Olberic!”

As if on cue, the older man came strolling into the room. He gave a brief wave to Cyrus before sending him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I tried to keep her from rushing in like this but…”

Cyrus dismissed the apology with a shake of the head and a smile. He couldn’t keep the confusion from showing on his face however. “I see...may I inquire as to why we’re going on this walk?”

Tressa said nothing for a moment, simply humming as she linked her arm with Cyrus’ and tugged him forward; effectively pulling him out of the room and into the wide hall of the inn. Once they were out, Olberic closed the door behind them and they began making their way down the stairs. 

“Well,” Tressa began after they reached the inn’s exit. She unlinked their arms and turned to give him a sly smile. “A little birdie told me that you’ve been hard at work all day, so we’re going to relax by exploring the town a little bit.” She pushed open the door and walked outside before turning around to hold it open. “Who knows, it might even help give you some inspiration to write the rest of your...uh, report-thingy.” 

Whether that little birdie the girl spoke of had been Ophilia or Alfyn - Cyrus didn’t know. Regardless, the sentiment was appreciated. 

“Very well,” he answered, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a small smile. “Shall we be off then?”

Tressa cheered, pumping a hand into the air before running on ahead. Olberic simply gave a hearty chuckle, catching the now unmanned door before it slammed shut. He turned to give the go ahead to Cyrus who bowed his head in thanks before making his way out into the heart of the city.

* * *

Surprisingly, their late night excursion had been beneficial to all of them. It seemed in this city, many of the residents preferred to go out for late night meals and attend various nighttime events, making it perfect for both acquiring information and trading items. Olberic had even managed to get hired to carry out various bounty hunts. 

And while Cyrus had ended up with knowledge on the early politics of the city and where to gain further information...Tressa had ended up with more equipment and materials than she could carry in her backpack; which in and of itself was some form of achievement considering how obscenely large the backpack was. 

Of course, this had resulted in both Cyrus and Olberic having to carry some of the items in their arms.

And unfortunately for Cyrus; since he was the physically weaker of the two men, he was stuck with carrying medicine bottles of many shapes and sizes, while Olberic handled the heavy armour. 

Thanks to that, he ended up lagging behind both of his companions on their way back to the inn to ensure he made no misstep. 

“Cyrus!” Tressa called from ahead of him, waving her arms. “You okay?”

He managed a small wave of the hand. “I’m perfectly alright, thank you!” He called back, although he wasn’t sure if she could hear him over the frantic shaking of the bottles in his arms.

Suddenly, someone stopped in front of him and he abruptly halted with a surprised yell. Despite his efforts to keep the bottles stable; as a result of the shock, two of the smaller ones that we’re already teetering on the edge of his arm tipped over and hurdled towards the ground.

With the rest of the medicine still secure in his arms, he couldn’t do anything but watch them helplessly fall to the ground. _Oh gods, Tressa was not going to be happy with him._

But before they could hit the concrete, a pair of hands reached down and caught them effortlessly. The familiar metal cuff on the person’s right wrist hit off the glass bottles as they returned to their original height.

“Therion,” Cyrus breathed, the relief palpable in his voice.

“Need some help?” The thief stared back at him with an impassive gaze and spoke with his usual monotone voice, but the slight upwards curl of his mouth gave away his amusement almost immediately.

Cyrus chose not to comment on it, deciding to simply fix the man with a pleading gaze and nod of the head. “Help would be most appreciated, thank you.”

Therion reached forward, relieving the scholar of at least half of the medicine. 

He hadn’t even realised how stiff his posture had become from his attempts to balance the stack of bottles. The tension left his shoulders and back almost immediately, and he allowed his body to relax. 

Tressa and Olberic were by his side not a moment later, the former of the two glaring daggers at the newcomer.

“You’re trying to steal my wares again, aren’t you?” She pointed an accusing finger at the thief, narrowing her eyes as she leaned into his personal space. Cyrus didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was not as intimidating as she probably thought she was in that moment.

Therion scoffed in response, rolling his eyes. “Does it look like I’m trying to steal your wares?” He sighed, rolling his shoulders and turning his back to the girl. “Alright, where to?”

Tressa pouted. “Hey!”

“The inn,” Olberic supplied. “We’re dropping this stuff off in Tressa’s room.”

Therion raised a brow at that. He surveyed the items in their possession and gave the older man a dubious look. “ _All_ of this? Are Tressa and Ophilia even going to have anywhere to sleep after we dump it all?”

Tressa groaned. “Of course we will! Now hurry up and carry it back.” 

Therion shot the girl a pointed look but complied without another word.

The merchant watched him go with a frown. “I’ve still got my eye on him in case he tries to make a run for it.”

Olberic chuckled, removing the girl’s hat to ruffle her hair. She yelped, furiously trying to grab the garment back. After a few seconds of struggling, she successfully reclaimed it and jammed it on her head, all while sending the warrior a displeased glare.

He simply shrugged in reply before giving Cyrus a grin. “Right, c’mon you two.”

Tressa huffed and purposely stomped ahead of the man, while he leisurely followed behind.

Cyrus watched them in amusement, quietly adjusting his grip on the bottles in his arms before following on.

“So, how did you get roped into helping the kid with her merchant work?”

He jumped slightly, turning his head to face the source of the voice. Therion stared back at him with his own quizzical look after he fell into step beside the scholar.

Cyrus sighed, giving his heart time to stop its panicked beating. “I didn’t get _roped_ into anything,” he answered. “I joined the both of them of my accord.” 

“Really…” Therion drawled, still skeptical. “I thought you would be cooped up in your room reading through that mountain of books you took from the library earlier.”

“Field research is just as valuable, Therion.”

The thief hummed, nodding his head slightly. “Is that so? What did you find out during your ‘field research’ then?” There was a look of silent challenge in the younger man’s eyes.

Cyrus smiled. “You’d like to hear my findings? Very well.”

His condensed explanation had lasted roughly fifteen minutes. And for his part, Therion had listened without a single interruption; in fact, he didn’t react the whole time. For a moment, Cyrus worried his words had been simply blocked out, but then the thief was speaking and those fears were quelled.

“So, what you’re telling me is, certain information is for the royal family’s eyes only?” 

Cyrus nodded, watching Tressa as she stopped to make another deal. “Precisely.” He frowned. “As much as I hate to admit it…”

“Huh.”

Cyrus turned to face the other man with a curious look, but the thief’s face gave nothing away as they continued to walk. 

With the inn coming into sight, the two of them fell into a comfortable silence until they reached the entrance.

“Okay!” Tressa said as she moved to open the inn’s doors. “To my room!”

Therion nudged Cyrus with his elbow. “Think you can handle it from here?” He asked, as he glanced over his shoulder; his attention shifting focus towards the city’s square.

Cyrus' brow furrowed as he turned to shoot the man a confused look. “Pardon?”

The younger man said nothing, simply choosing to thrust all the bottles in his possession into Cyrus’ arms. 

Cyrus let out a startled gasp, his knees buckling slightly under the sudden weight. His glare was a mix of something between bewilderment and exasperation. “What-”

Therion’s gaze was back on him. “I’ve got something I need to do,” he said, giving a brief wave of his hand. “I’ll be back later.” 

Before Cyrus could question him further, he was out the door and out of sight.

The scholar stood there dumbfounded, the bottles in his arms shaking dangerously. It was only when he felt one of them start to slip below his arm did he snap out of his stupor and react. He readjusted to the extra weight, arranging the medicines so that they sat more securely in his arms.

Olberic and Tressa walked up next to him, looking at the exit with shared expression of puzzlement.

“What was that about?” The girl asked, turning to look at Cyrus for an answer.

The man just shook his head in response. “I have absolutely no idea.”

The merchant made a noise of contemplation before shrugging. “Oh well, it doesn’t concern us.” She bit her lip. “At least, I hope it doesn’t.”

Olberic frowned. “We don’t need any more trouble for the group. Dealing with those bandits that had been stalking Primrose was taxing enough.” He sighed, shaking his head and moving away from the door. “Let’s just get these things back to your room, Tressa.”

“Okay,” the girl replied, moving to the stairs. “C’mon Cyrus! And try not to drop the medicine!”

_Easier said than done_ , Cyrus thought as he watched the bottles shift precariously in his arms. “I’ll try, my dear.”

* * *

The next morning, he had barely finished his breakfast before someone began insistently rapping at his door.

“Just a moment,” he called, placing the wooden bowl down on the coffee table next to his bed. 

Whoever was on the opposite side of that door either didn’t hear him over their persistent knocking, or choose to purposely ignore him as before he could even stand, the door was flung open and they rushed in; slamming the door behind them immediately. 

Instinctively, Cyrus reached for his staff that rested against the back wall of the room.

“Woah, hey. It’s just me. No need to bludgeon me over the head with that thing.”

Cyrus lowered his weapon immediately, sending them an incredulous look. “Yes, well, I didn’t expect someone to just barge into my room like that.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is there something I can help you with? Why are you out of breath?”

The other man just shook his head, letting his breathing even out. “That’s not important,” he answered curtly before pulling something out from under his shawl and holding it out to the scholar. “Here.”

Cyrus moved his gaze down to inspect the item. It seemed to be some kind of book; a rather worn one by the look of the ripped leather and faded letters on the front cover. To say his interest was piqued would be an understatement.

He carefully took the book from the other man’s hands, ensuring that he didn’t damage it any further as he studied the item. Only when he opened the tome and scanned some of the content within did his mind make the connection.

His mouth must have dropped open in shock at one point because Therion was sending him a wary glance. “You stole this from the royal family?”

Therion shrugged. “Somehow, I don’t think they’ll miss it, y’know, considering it was sitting on a shelf collecting dust.” 

Cyrus’ immediate reaction was to reprimand him for committing such a deed, but a smaller part of him wanted to offer his thanks instead.

Somehow, he was able to convey his conflicted emotions through his facial expression, and Therion was speaking again.

“Listen,” he began, “if it makes you feel better, I’ll return it after you’re finished with it.”

“But-”

Therion smirked. “Besides, wasn’t it you who told me just last night that ‘knowledge deserved to be shared’?”

“Yes, but…”

Therion huffed, rolling his eyes. “Just take the damn thing, alright?” He said, aggravation quickly slipping into his voice. “I didn’t just get tailed by twenty-something knights for you to say you aren’t interested.”

His morals remained at odds with each other even as he conceded. “Very well,” he sighed, giving the thief a small but genuine smile. “Thank you for going to all this effort, my friend.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Therion turned his back, moving to readjust the scarf around his neck. He walked towards the door and pulled it open. “Have fun reading about your politics.” He said and, after surveying the hallway, gave one last nod over his shoulder before leaving; the door clicking shut behind him.

Cyrus watched him go, staying rooted to the spot as he continued to turn the book in his hands. 

He looked down at the stolen tome. A wealth of knowledge was undoubtedly waiting for him within - knowledge he knew he wasn’t supposed to be privy to.

Subconsciously, his grip tightened on the book.

_Knowledge that would help everyone to better understand their world._

With that thought prominent at the forefront of his mind, he set about his work.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set by the time he had finished. 

As expected, the tome delivered by Therion had proven to be a goldmine of knowledge about the town; from its politics to its involvement in past wars. 

Cyrus had been utterly enthralled in the text and had worked the entire day with little to no breaks. Ophilia had been kind enough to bring up some lunch for him earlier, but now that the report for the city had been completed, he was forced to divert his attention to his empty and growling stomach.

Setting both his work and various tomes aside, he stood from his place at the desk, feeling the intense relief in his legs as he allowed them to stretch. 

His eyes fell to the stolen tome, and for a moment, he considered taking it down with him in case Therion happened to be present. He quickly dismissed the thought - it was far too much of a risk. The royal guard was stationed all over town; some of the knights even stopped by the inn for a meal from time to time. 

Surprisingly, when he reached the dining area, only H’aanit and Linde were present at the counter. The snow leopard’s ears immediately perked up upon his arrival and she raised her head from her previous sleeping position; alerting H’aanit to his presence.

The woman turned around to face him, giving him a small smile. “Ah Cyrus, finally hath decided to joineth us, I see.” 

Cyrus gave his own smile in return, taking the seat next to the hunter. He leaned down to scratch Linde behind the ears as he spoke. “Even I have my limits for how long I am able to work, my dear.” He looked around at the unusually empty room. “Would it be correct of me to assume that I have missed dinner?”

H’aanit chuckled as she eat the remains of her salad. “Thou art two hours late,” she explained. “Nay matter, didst thee completeth thy work?”

“Ah yes, everything regarding this city has been compiled and completed,” he replied, placing his hand back into his lap when Linde huffed and began to shy away from his touch. “All that’s left to do is return the tomes to the city library.”

H’aanit hummed. “I wouldst be happy to assisteth thee,” she offered. “After thy has't eaten, of course.”

Cyrus bowed his head in gratitude. “Thank you, H’aanit. That is very kind of you.”

She merely nodded in response, standing from the counter and collecting her leftovers. “Please, comen chooseth what thee wouldst like to eat.” She motioned to the kitchen door. “The innkeepers has’t allowed us useth of their kitchen today.”

“Oh,” Cyrus replied, perking up. “That was very kind of them.”

“Indeed.” H’aanit pushed open the door to the kitchen. “After tasting Primrose’s cooking, they practically insisted. Mayhap if thou art lucky she shall also cook something for thee.”

“I’m cooking for who?” Primrose’s voice echoed from the kitchen. She poked her head out. “Oh, Cyrus. Finally finished with your studies?” She inquired, stepping into the room.

He voiced his confirmation, watching as Linde began nudging up against the dancer’s legs in greeting. The woman gave the leopard a quick pat on the head in return before moving back into the kitchen. H’aanit and Cyrus followed behind her.

“So, what do you feel like?” Primrose asked, crossing her arms. “I think I still have some leftover turkey from dinner...”

“Ah, that will do me just fine,” Cyrus answered. “If you have things to do, my dear, I wouldn’t mind cooking it in your stead.”

Primrose quickly dismissed him, a slight grimace on her face. “I’ve tasted your cooking, Cyrus. Leave it to me.”

Cyrus tried his best to ignore the sting that followed that comment. “O-Oh well...If you insist.”

“You’ve been hard at work Cyrus,” Primrose pointed out as she retrieved the leftovers and relit the fire of the small stove. “Just relax for a bit.”

The meal had taken a bit of time to prepare since Primrose had insisted on making a new sauce from scratch to go with the food. Regardless, it had been worth the wait and an hour later Cyrus had practically wiped the plate clean.

“Somebody enjoyed their meal,” Primrose commented, the corners of her lips twitching up in amusement.

“My compliments to the chef,” Cyrus replied, carrying his empty dishes to the kitchen. “It was an exceptional dish through and through.”

“Glad you liked it,” she said, crossing her arms as she moved to lean against the counter. The kitchen door swung open and she turned her head at the sudden noise. H’aanit stood in the doorway carrying a large stack of books and Primrose sent a knowing smile to Cyrus. “You heading to the library now?”

After clearing away his plate, he nodded, moving to remove some of the tomes from the hunter’s possession. A quick glance at the load told him that Therion had already dropped by and taken the stolen one back.

He smiled at Primrose. “We are. Once again, thank you for the lovely meal, my dear.” 

“Don’t mention it,” she replied and made to move out of the kitchen. “Anyway, I gotta go find Olberic. I’ll see you guys later.” She gave them both a smile - one Cyrus couldn’t help but notice was extremely strained - before she left the premises. 

Almost immediately, he voiced his observations to H’aanit who gave him a thin lipped smile of her own in return.

“Olberic believes he hast information regarding those with the marketh of the crow,” she explained, lowering her voice to a whisper instinctively even if it was only the two of them that were currently present. “Linde and I overheard him talking with Primrose earlier.” 

The clench of anger Cyrus felt at even the mention of those men was immediate. The young dancer hadn’t told them much surrounding her past, only choosing to scrape the surface of her motivations and goals. But the small dose of information she had chosen to confide in them with was enough for him to know that these men were unforgivable.

H’aanit must have sensed his tension as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I'm sure cometh tomorrow, they shall be ready to shareth it with us.”

“Yes,” Cyrus agreed. He cleared his throat and smiled at the hunter. “Yes, you are most correct.”

Linde wandered in behind them, nudging her owner’s legs impatiently. 

H’aanit chuckled warmly. “Yes, tis about timeth we get going.” She turned to look at Cyrus. “Ready?”

Cyrus bowed his head, moving his arm forward in a sweeping motion. “After you.”

* * *

Early the next morning, Olberic and Primrose had pulled them aside, as H’aanit had suspected, to inform them of a sighting in which Olberic had seen a man believed to be bearing the mark of the crow while he had been out on a bounty hunt to the north of town.

The group had immediately agreed to venture out as soon as possible, much to Primrose’s relief. 

They had each returned to their rooms to pack their things. Olberic had collected his equipment within the five minutes of returning and informed Cyrus on their meeting point before heading out, leaving the scholar alone in the room to finish filing away his work and gather the rest of his remaining items. 

Once everything had been collected, his gaze immediately fell to the window as he watched the citizens go about their daily life. He wondered if they were unaware of the history surrounding their city. 

He winced, remembering the stories of war told within that leather-bound tome. Maybe in this instance, ignorance truly was bliss.

His mind then wandered to what the next city would have in store for him and his spirits lifted. 

The world itself was a book full of knowledge, just waiting to be explored. 

And, for once, his exploration and pursuit of knowledge was something he was not alone in. Of course, his companions had their own reasons and goals for being on this journey...but regardless, his heart couldn’t feel happier for being able to experience these discoveries with these seven amazing people.

His group. 

He smiled and closed his eyes.

_His family._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> As always, any comments or kudos you leave is appreciated!~


End file.
